


It´s Not The End of The World (At Least Not For Me)

by FarAwayInWonderland



Series: The Boy Who Would Be Death [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Creation Myth, Crossover, Gen, Master of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-06 13:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3136904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarAwayInWonderland/pseuds/FarAwayInWonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life bows to death and from death new life springs forth. Harry never thought that this would also apply to existence at large; at least not until he became Death and had to help the new God to create a universe from the ashes of the old one. Seems his Next Great Adventure would be filled with Angels, Demons and - of course - Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of Death

Harry should have expected it.

When the lifeless shell of what once had been the most feared Dark Lord to ever threaten the Wizarding World fell to the ground, Harry didn´t feel anything.

He had often day-dreamed about the moment when Voldemort would finally be defeated. He would be free to do whatever he wanted without the threat of a raging madman trying to kill him looming over his head. He would become an Auror or a Quidditch player, maybe marry Ginny and have children with whom he would share the lessons life had taught him. They would grow up with a loving family, and the only thing the cupboard under the stairs would be used for would be storage for all those unnecessary awards he would earn at the Ministry. And with old age, he would finally move on to, as Dumbledore aptly named it, 'The Next Great Adventure'.

Harry looked around. He saw the Hogwarts students who had stayed to fight erupting in cheers, tears of joy flowing down their cheeks and falling into each other´s arms: Hufflepuff with Ravenclaw, Gryffindor with Hufflepuff and even some Slytherins who couldn't hold themselves back and embraced the odd Gryffindor. It was a pandemonium of jubilation and joy.

Harry didn't feel anything.

On the other side of the courtyard, the Death Eaters and their allies stood shell-shocked and absolutely silent. Faced with the demise of their master, who many had revered as an immortal god-like being, at hands of a seventeen-year-old half-blood, many of them didn't even attempt to attack the cheering forces of the Light. They just stood there like lifeless statues, staring at the remains of their Lord; the only thing that moved was the wind that played with their black robes. It was as if Voldemort´s death had sucked out their lives as well.

Harry looked at this scene of devastation and sorrow, and he didn't feel anything. He was numb. But as he stood there and watched the Death Eaters and their allies, something began to stir within him. The numbness receded – and hot rage washed over him.

He just wanted to scream at them, at all of them, because of the uselessness of it all. So many lives had been lost on both sides, so many young people who would never have the change to carve their own path in this world. So much beauty had been tainted by this conflict – by this war – that could never be recovered. Hogwarts, Diagon Alley, and the Ministry of Magic would likely be rebuilt sometimes in the future, but who would ever be able to look upon the walls of Hogwarts and not remember the blood of those who had fallen in its defence? Who would be able to walk through Diagon Alley without the fear of a sudden Death Eater raid, and who would walk through the marble entrance hall of the Ministry without thinking of the abomination of fountain that the Voldemort regime had had installed to show the superiority of purebloods?

He wanted to scream at them for letting it go that far. He wanted to scream for little Teddy who would never know his parents; for Severus Snape, who had lost everything; who had been forced to live a life in fear and shadows because of the struggle between two powerful wizards, and who would never receive any recognition for his service; for Draco Malfoy, who had been shaped by the war of beliefs handed down to him by the generations before him which had never allowed him to be his own person; for Sirius, who had lost his whole life to the machinations of a faceless bureaucracy; for Fred, for Cedric, and for his own parents. He wanted to scream at a society that never changed and that allowed the same atrocities to happen again and again and again. But he didn't.

Harry just stood there, gripping his wand tightly, and watched them through his emerald-green eyes. He felt somehow detached, as if he was only some spectre watching through the body of someone else, someone who had no personal stake in the battle that had transpired before him. He mused that perhaps this was how historians felt when they studied some war fought long ago. Interested, of course, with a tiny bit of admiration, but mostly just shaking their heads and wondering what those people had thought when they waged this conflict.

 _Maybe the historians in a few centuries will judge us the same_ , Harry thought as he watched the Light forces beginning to round up the Death Eaters, of which only a few put up any worthwhile struggle. _Maybe someone will sit crooked over a dusty old tome and think how stupid and petty this whole 'war' had been, and how it could have been avoided if only a few people had made different decisions._

* * *

Many years later, when Harry thought back to this moment, he would wonder if it had been his brief death that had opened his eyes to this point of view. Because who would be so preposterous as to deny that death didn't change a person? For the time Harry had stayed in the Realm Beyond, all his ties to the world of the living had been severed. The Realm was everything and nothing at the same time. Human beings needed a fixed point – anything – to anchor their emotions and thoughts to their reality. In the Realm, there was nothing of such nature. It was incomprehensible to humans who hadn't been there. For the first time in his life, Harry was completely free of all the earthly bonds that had chained his mind, and he finally _saw._ His death and talk with Dumbledore – who probably hadn't even been his deceased headmaster but rather the personification of what he subconsciously assumed death to be – had taken place beyond time itself. Centuries could have passed, or only a split second, but it didn't matter. It was as if a veil had been lifted right in front of his eyes. He had been able to see the things for what they were, which was something not many had ever experienced.

Harry deeply believed that this was the reason why he had changed so much. He had experienced something no one had ever before, and that made him different from the others. His perception had been changed and with it his connection to his peers.

* * *

When Ginny asked him to come back to her, Harry declined. There was much shouting involved, mainly on her part, and the whole Weasley clan made their displeasure known by either sending him angry glares or vicious stinging hexes which lessened as time passed on. But Harry stood by his decision: Ginny deserved someone on the same wavelength as her, someone who would find pleasure in the same things she did. Not someone as altered as he. And later, when she finally found said person in Dean Thomas, she came to him right to him before her father was to lead her down the aisle and thanked him.

"It was never meant to be me and you, was it?" she had asked as she looked him in the eyes. She was still as radiant as she had been in their youth.

"Maybe it was…before…but not anymore," Harry answered and took one of her hands. "But you will be happy with Dean. He is perfect for you." She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered. "For everything." She turned around and they both watched the guests slowly taking their seats.

"Sometimes I can´t really believe it," Ginny continued as they watched. "It´s just so surreal. One moment I was this eleven-year-old girl who had a crush on you and a teenage Dark Lord possessing her…" She snorted and Harry smiled. "..and the next, I´m standing beside that same crush, about to be married to another man. Who would have thought?"

"Yes, who would have," Harry said. One last lingering touch on his shoulder and then a teary Arthur Weasley came and led his daughter to the waiting groom.

* * *

He never became an Auror or a member of a Quidditch team. It just seemed so mundane to him. Chasing small-time criminals – because not every criminal was a psychopathic mastermind – or enchanted balls had somehow lost their appeal. So Harry became an Unspeakable, much to Hermione's delight and Ron´s horror.

"You´re crazy, mate," his best friend had said. "But that´s nothing new, isn´t it?"

There simply was something about delving into the mystery of magic. It had existed since the beginning of time, and even though countless of brilliant minds had tried to discover its secrets, there was still so much to explore. Harry worked in the Death Chamber where the Veil was kept. It had long ago lost its horror to him. Here was where Harry could be as close to the blissful state of mind he had been when he had been in the Realm. Sometimes, he could see shadows behind the grey-whirling fog, whispering and beckoning him to come nearer. But he never did. It never seemed…right to him.

He never told anyone – not even his closest friends – of what he did; what he experienced within the walls of the Department of Mysteries. Harry suspected that Hermione knew at least a bit because of her position as Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic Shacklebolt, but she never asked, and he never offered. They had an unspoken agreement that some things he wasn't willing to share with her and Ron. Ron, of course – with the emotional range of a teaspoon – never noticed and was completely content with letting Harry "play with the creepy brains." ("That's not even what I work with, Ron!"). The only person who probably understood Harry was Luna Lovegood.

"There hasn´t been a single Wrackspurt around you in years," she said to him once in her serene voice. "Maybe death chased them away. They don´t like it when you understand. It makes it more difficult for them to confuse you." Harry had looked in her grey eyes, partly concealed by the spectrespecs she was wearing, and he knew that Luna understood his change. He would never able to talk with her about it – it was too confusing to try to put it into words – but he would not have to explain himself to her.

He didn't see Teddy as often as he liked. Andromeda had moved to America because England held to many memories with which she could not cope. Harry visited as often as he could, becoming the 'coolest uncle ever', but he always thought that it wasn't enough. But he did not take Teddy back to England: Andromeda was more suited to raising a child, and he wasn't so selfish that he would destroy the lives of two people dear to him for the sake of his own conscience.

* * *

Three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry found the three Hallows lying innocently on his bedside-table: the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak. He had hidden them in the oldest and deepest vault of Gringotts behind enchantments not even the Goblins remembered how to put up anymore, for the Goblins had no use for such 'frivolous' things as supposed objects out of a wizard´s fairy tale. He had assumed that with his inevitable death, those three objects would lose their powers and no longer be the temptation they once had been to every wizard and witch. But when Harry saw them, he knew that getting rid of those objects was not supposed to happen. He did not try to hide them for a second time. Deep within, he knew that they would come back every time no matter what he tried and so he complied with the Hallows´ will. He was their master now; as such he had the duty to prevent any abuse of such powerful objects. He hid them in plain sight: The resurrection stone on his finger as the ring of his Potter-Lordship, the Elder-wand glamoured as his Holy-wand (which had stopped working for him with the Hallow´s return) and the Cloak as his everyday robe. Nobody would search for those three powerful objects in such obvious places.

* * *

By the time Hermione and Ron had their second child, Harry noticed that he no longer aged. While the first strands of grey appeared in his friends´ hair, and the stress of their everyday-life made more and more lines appear on their faces, he stayed looking the same twenty-year-old that he had been when the Hallows came back to him. The application of numerous glamours made sure that none of his friends noticed.

Hermione´s seemingly endless energy she had used the pursue equal rights for all sentient creatures diminished after she had successfully installed several ground-breaking laws and instead she turned towards house and home; managing the now five children containing Weasley-Granger-household with the same strictness with which she had terrorized Harry and Ron in their Hogwarts years. Hermione giving up work for staying at home: something Harry had never thought possible when they were younger.

Ron used his strategic skills to further expand his brother´s joke shop which became one of the most successful wizarding ventures in the last centuries; even going so far as opening local branches in the muggle world which only sold the 'not so obviously magical' products. His love for the Chudley Cannons never lessened, even though they never won the championship while he was alive.

After a turbulent but successful Quidditch career Ginny settled down as well. Her first child, a girl, she called Harriet and Harry was made her godfather.

"Because without you she wouldn't be here," Ginny had said after laughing at Harry´s incredulous expression when he first heard her name.

Harry meanwhile stayed the same; an immovable pillar in the ever-changing world around him.

* * *

"Only you, Harry," Ginny said to him, now completely grey, as they sat in his kitchen in Grimmauld Place. She was the only one he had confided in about his immortality: Hermione would have nagged him at every turn about his agelessness and his apathy towards it while Ron would throw a jealousy-fit, though he had become better with dealing with such feelings over the years. Ginny had just shaken her head and laughed. Every now and then she would talk with him about it.

"Harry," Ginny continued, now in a more serious tone. "We´re all past hundred now. With grandchildren – Bill has even a great-grandchild now! And I´m worried about you. There will be a point in the future when the last of us will have died and it´s just…the prospect of you all alone while every one of us has moved on…it frightens me so much." A tear ran down her cheek. And another. Within seconds, she was a sobbing mess. Harry leaned forward and embraced her, holding her while she sniffed into his robes.

"You don´t have to cry for me, Ginny," he said to her after she had calmed down. "It will be hard. It will be the most difficult thing I have ever done. I will cry, I will rage, and I will curse everything near me to try to chase away the grief." Ginny´s eyes began to water again, so he continued. "But I have this feeling, this instinct – I don´t know how to describe it. It´s like when you come inside after a rainy day and you instantly feel warm and protected – that there is something more coming after, something big, and it will be good. It´s difficult to say." And Ginny smiled at him, her eyes shining with hope.

Ginny was the last of his friends to embrace death. And true to his words, Harry cried and raged, cursing every surface of Grimmauld Place. But also true to his words, he did move on, leaving behind the Wizarding World to disappear into the anonymity of the muggle one. He watched as humanity left Earth and began to settle down in the Solar System and beyond. He watched as wars tore apart whole worlds, leaving behind nothing but lifeless, charred husks. He watched humanity coming back to those planets and recreating them like they once had been. He watched humanity evolving into different sub-species and, later on, into completely different ones. Wars were fought between them and many centuries later they had completely forgotten their common origin. And he felt – rather than watched – as the whole universe came to an end in a gigantic white explosion.

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, he found himself in an all-encompassing whiteness and immediately noticed that he lay upon the ground. With one swift move, he stood up and looked around. He was in the Realm Beyond, again, wearing nothing but a white tunic. A sense of peace was penetrating his very being and Harry felt unburdened for the very first time in many millennia.

 _"Ah, Harry, welcome back,"_ a voice came from all around him. It was young and old, male and female, hard and soft, angry and amused at the same time.

"Why am I here?" Harry asked, confused. "Doesn't even the end of the universe grant me the right to see my family and friends again?"

 _"All will be explained,"_ the Voice said and chuckled. _"But we´re not finished here yet."_ Exactly as the Voice had finished another man appeared right next to Harry. He looked older than him by at least twenty years, and seemed to be rather nervous: His gaze was flickering around, never focusing and he fidgeted with his hands while he constantly changed balance from one leg to the other. When he saw Harry standing there, some of his nervousness seemed to abate for his movements stilled and his eyes focused on the only other being.

"At least I´m not alone this time," he mumbled in American accent, and then spoke to Harry. "So you´re here as well? Nice to meet you, I´m Chuck Shurley." He extended his hand and Harry shook it. "So, how long have you been immortal?" However, before Harry was able to answer, Chuck continued: "I really hate the Voice" – Harry could practically hear the capital spelling. – "always sprouting some cryptic nonsense…" Before Chuck could continue his rant they were interrupted by the Voice.

_"Ah, now everyone is here…"_

"But why?" Harry pressed for answers. The Voice was silent for a moment. Or for an eternity; it was difficult to say. After all time was meaningless in the Realm Beyond.

 _"The answer to that is simple and complicated_ ," the Voice said. _"You are the Inheritors. Like the Creator and I once were. And the entities before us."_

"What!?" Harry and Chuck gaped simultaneously. The Voice just laughed at them benignly.

 _"You humans had this concept of the Circle of Life_ ," it continued to explain. _"Life is followed by death, and death makes place for new life. Why should it be only applied on a small scale instead of on something larger? Why shouldn't gods and universes bend to the same rules? I too was once mortal before I assumed this role. I too had to endure hardships and tests set by my predecessor which determined my eligibility. You had ones as well, remember? I am Death, and I will always be the last one to cease."_ Stunned silence.

"What does that even mean?" Chuck asked after the shock of actually speaking with Death had worn off.

" _You, Chuck, have passed all the tests that the Creator has set to search for the one who would relieve him from his duty,"_ Death explained. _"And Harry has done the same with the test I installed. Only two beings in our universe were able to do so. It is a never-ending circle; one of which you are now part as well. You, Chuck, have passed the test to become the next creator and you, Harry, are to be the next Death for the universe that is yet to come."_

"Y-y-y-you mean that…that we´re the new Death-God-Duo?" Chuck asked incredulously and Harry had to agree with him.

"What about our families?" Harry asked a little bit frightened at the prospect of possibly never seeing those he loved again. "Are we never allowed to see them again?"

 _"You will,"_ Death said. _"Like I will when I have done my duty."_ Here, it sounded weary and worn. _"It may seem unfair to you, but there always has to be someone who shoulders the responsibility, one who comes last. And out of all the beings that existed under our tenure, you two were the most suitable for this. Do this and be assured that it won´t be detrimental to you."_

Harry couldn't really believe it. While Chuck stuttered through one question after another, he just stood there and stared into the whiteness of his surroundings. Harry knew that he was 'special' – who wouldn't have figured it out after living a life that spanned several millennia, until the very end of the universe itself? He had always assumed that at the very end of everything he would see his friends and family again. But as the anger about the taken chance to reunite with his family abated and reason took its place Harry also had to admit that he wasn't in a hurry to do so. Over the time the pain of their deaths had lessened and was no longer that constant searing pain that it had been at first. During his long life he had lost his sense of time. What use were measurements like seconds, hours, days, months and even years if they were all the same for you? His anger

But becoming Death for a complete new universe? Even with all the things he had lived through, this sounded absurd. Although Harry wasn't overly religious (the Dursleys made sure of that by belittling him as evil´s spawn and gleefully reciting all the cruel punishments he was to endure according to the holy texts), he had always believed that there had to be something bigger out there – something far superior to even the greatest wizards. For Harry, the mere existence of magic itself was proof of that. Magic was a mystery, unexplainable, fantastical, and seemingly bowed to no rules humans could come up with – so there had to be something out there that could. But for him, those entities were infinite, incomprehensible to everyone who tried to understand them. And now he was talking to one who wanted him to become his successor so that it could do the same thing at its end that Harry had thought would always come at his: finally being granted rest with those that left this universe before him. Oh, he could empathize with that yearning.

"I´ll do it," he said. Chuck stared at him, gaping like a fish. Harry could feel a deep gratefulness penetrating the atmosphere around him. Hermione had always called it his 'saving people thing', and even after all this time it still dictated his actions. How could he decide to move on when there was someone (or something – he didn't really know) who had even more right to do so and had waited even longer than him to finally have this chance? Harry couldn't enter the afterlife with such a heavy burden on his consciousness. And when he felt the other Death´s relief, he knew that he had made the right decision.

"I don't want to be a spoilsport," Chuck said, turning to Harry. "But why would you do that? Do you really want to live even longer?"

"I don´t know how long you have already lived," Harry began. "But for me time has become meaningless. Sure, I want to be with my family and friends again, but what are a few millennia than a blink of an eye for beings such as us? The Creator and Death both had this burden long before us and do you not think that they deserve to move on before we do? They have already done their duty. It would be a selfish and cowardly way to deny them. Besides," Harry grinned, "where is your sense for adventure?" Chuck seemed to mull about that for a while. Then, when he came to a decision his whole posture straightened and he looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"So I´ll do it, too. You don´t seem to be such a bad guy to spend another eternity with." Harry grinned at him.

 _"We thank you that you take up our Mantle of Responsibility,"_ Death said. _"May we meet again Beyond."_ And with that, the whiteness turned into darkness.

* * *

The first thing Chuck did was to re-create light.

"All that black was pretty annoying," he said as explanation. Harry just nodded and added some shades of grey simply because he liked it so.

* * *

"Is it a sign of lacking creativity that I can´t come up with another name for 'Earth'?" Chuck asked as he and Harry watched the newly created solar system. Some things were adopted from the universe they had come from, such as the sun being the central point of the solar system, but there were some new planets as well. Harry was especially fond of Saturn and its many rings. They hadn't had such a lovely planet in the universe before.

"I don't think so," Harry answered Chuck´s query. "There was an infinite amount of universes before us, so I don't think that you can come up with anything new anyway." Chuck just stared at him forlornly.

"I haven't even started to create life and I already suck at being God," he sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

"Stop that," Harry said and laid his hand on Chuck´s back in a placating manner. "I bet all those other Gods had their problems as well. Just keep going, and if you don't like it, you still have me." He gave a Chuck a lopsided grin which, together with his encouraging words, seemed to cheer him up.

* * *

"They´re an absolute catastrophe!" Chuck exclaimed as he stomped into Harry´s part of the Realm Beyond. The emerald-eyed man was sure that the God would've torn out his hair if he had been corporal. But he wasn't, and so Harry had to deal with waves of emotions – anger, disbelief, disappointment, grief.

"I guess from your behaviour that you weren't as successful with those Leviathans as you hoped?" he inquired.

"It´s an absolute mess!" Chuck complained. "They´re just eating! Eating, Harry! Everything they can get their greedy hands on. I don´t know what to do! If I allow this to continue, my whole creation will be nothing but charred ground within the next millennia. But I can´t just simply destroy my first creation. What kind of God – what kind of father – would that make me?"

"Then don't do it," Harry offered as solution. "Imprison them somewhere they can´t do any damage – a hole in the ground, another dimension. The possibilities are endless." Chuck seemed to think about it for a while. Then without a word, he vanished, leaving behind a very annoyed Harry.

* * *

Sometime later, as Harry was watching a supernova explode, Chuck reappeared. "I went through with your idea," he announced.

"You put them into a hole in the ground?" Harry asked, surprised, raising an eyebrow at his counterpart. Chuck shot him an irritated look.

"No, I put them into an alternate dimension," he groused. "I called it 'Purgatory' in the hope that it may purge them of their greed and hunger…and because of that movie. I really liked that one."

"That´s deeply philosophical, coming from you," Harry hummed nonchalantly as he watched another explosion rocking through the sky. "The first part at least."

"The next time I create something, I´ll put more thought into it," Chuck said. "But that can wait a few millennia."

* * *

"Why is my grandfather – or someone looking creepily like him – lying on the ground?" Chuck asked the next time he saw Harry, equally appalled and curious at the same time.

Harry looked at him in surprise. "It looks like your grandfather?" he asked shocked. Chuck nodded.

"The same hooked nose, gaunt face, hollow cheekbones, and long black hair," he confirmed. "He wasn't a very pleasant person to be around, so tell me, why someone so similar to him lying here?" He pointed at the figure lying on the ground.

"That´s Death," Harry exclaimed excitedly. "Or he will be when I´m finished with him. I don't think I´ll ever create something again. You make it look so easy, just imagining it into existence. I had to work for centuries to get even this one right."

"Why would you create 'Death'?" Chuck asked, perplexed. "You already are him."

"Yeah," Harry said. "But if your creations become even half as numerous as the previous universe, I want someone else to help me collect all their souls. I´m not some bloody delivery boy. I want to have my own leisure time!" He ended his rant with rather passionate wave of his hand. Chuck just stared at him with an incredulous expression.

"So that´s your…" he searched for the right word. "…substitute?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Want to watch how I wake him up?"

"I have nothing better to do at the moment," Chuck shrugged.

"Still not over the whole Leviathan debacle, hmm," Harry commented, and Chuck shot him a dirty look. Harry raised his arms in a yielding gesture. "Sorry, sorry, won´t bring it up again. Now, let´s wake this guy here up." Harry kneeled down beside the motionless figure and touched its temple with two fingers. A shock went through the figure and it opened his eyes.

"Welcome!" Harry greeted the substitute death.

"Master," it said, staring. Harry had to supress a groan; Chuck, on the other hand, had no such scruple and let out barks of laughter.

 _Voldemort would be so proud_ , Harry thought.

"Don´t call me Master," he said to his creation.

"As you wish, Sir," it replied evenly. "Who am I?"

"You are Death," Harry answered. "Or rather I am Death but I bestow you with the duties and privileges that come with it. Come with me and I´ll explain. Will you accompany us, Chuck?" Said God just shook his head.

"I´ll leave you to your bonding," he just said and vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So that idea haunted me for a very long time and then I sat down and simply wrote it out of my head ;) This story is already finished and there is only one more chapter to come which – of course – entails our favourite Winchesters. I just have to wait for my beta-reader to send it back to me. If this story is received well I may continue it as part of a series. That depends entirely on you, my dear readers. Till next chapter!


	2. I Had The Time Of My Life

The next time Harry saw his colleague was a few millennia after he had created Death. Said entity had developed a love for dry sarcasm and black humour, which Harry greatly appreciated (Chuck didn't), but he hadn't much to do, seeing that Chuck hadn't bothered to create something new since the Leviathans.

"Harry!" Chuck interrupted the raven-haired youth while he sat on the highest mountain Chuck´s earth had to offer. He looked up to the God and waited for an explanation why he had deigned Harry with his presence.

"I wanted to introduce you to somebody," Chuck said and Harry perked up. He hadn't noticed that Chuck had a new creation.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Not what," Chuck said. "Who!" And with these words, he shooed said creation from his back. It had taken the form of a young boy with black hair and deep blue eyes. When Harry looked at its true form, he saw six gigantic wings made of pure light which shone in many different hues of gold. Its main body consisted of pure energy which was constantly in motion and never settled for a specific form. Harry could sense the emotions radiating from Chuck´s newest creation: love and adoration for his 'father', confusion at Harry, and childish curiosity at the whole world around it.

"That´s Michael," Chuck said with pride in his voice. "He is an angel."

"Sir," Michael greeted Harry without leaving the comforting presence of his father. Harry shot Chuck a dirty look, being completely sure that he had been the one to make Michael call him 'Sir'. Chuck just grinned at him.

"Hello, Michael," Harry reciprocated Michael´s greeting. "It's nice to meet you." Michael just stared at him.

"How about you explore the planet a little bit?" Chuck proposed to the little angel. Said being looked up to his father with wide eyes. "I´ll stay here with Harry. We haven't talked for a few millennia." Assured that his father would be still waiting for him when he came back, Michael took flight and disappeared.

"So…angels?" Harry commented after a moment of silence. Chuck just hummed in confirmation.

"I have thought about the Leviathans and what went wrong with them," Chuck started to explain. "I came to the conclusion that they had been too independent and too powerful at the same time. For the angels, I´ll cut back on both. They will come in different power levels: I´ll only create four with a high level of power."

"Why just four?" Harry asked curiously. "Why not three, or seven, or nine?"

"Because four is my favourite number," Chuck said.

"That´s an answer I can accept," Harry laughed. "Is it because of them that you have created this new dimension?"

"Yes," Chuck confirmed. "I named it 'Heaven' and I want it to be a paradise. A place of bliss and contentedness where there is no sorrow or suffering."

"That's ambitious," Harry said, "but those angels – or at least the one you've created so far – seem to be much more benign and balanced than the Leviathans ever were." Relief flooded Chuck´s eyes as Harry confirmed that he hadn't messed up with his new creations. Both watched as Michael came flying back, immediately clinging to Chuck.

"Have you seen some interesting things?" Chuck asked, fatherly love colouring his voice. Michael gazed shyly upon him and nodded solemnly.

Harry considered that that was why Chuck deserved to be the Creator. He obviously unconditionally adored and loved the little creature he had created. And even though the Leviathans had turned out to be a gigantic disappointment, he still had refused to annihilate them, instead choosing to imprison them in another dimension where they could not wreak havoc upon the rest of his creation. For Chuck, every being he created was his responsibility, and he had to make sure that they would not suffer. If Harry had been in his place, he would have made completely different decisions. But he wasn´t, so he just smiled at the display of affection.

"Then let´s get back to Heaven," Chuck said and Michael´s wings trembled with excitement. He obviously liked his home. "But we´ll bid farewell to Harry first. After all, we wouldn't want to be called impolite, would we?" Michael nodded fervently, then turned around and waved at Harry, who returned the gesture. Chuck just nodded at him and then father and son vanished. Harry turned back towards the snowy mountain with a tiny smile gracing his face. It seems that things would finally become livelier.

* * *

Over the next few centuries, Chuck created hundreds of angels. Harry only met the four Archangels – Michael, Samael, Raphael and Gabriel – because the rest of them weren't important enough to him to bother with. The majority of the angels didn't even know that he existed, for Chuck had gifted his creations with (near) immortality and therefore they did not need to deal with death.

He sometimes visited Heaven and watched the winged creatures as they fulfilled their duties, which consisted mainly of singing praises for Chuck or earth (Harry did comment once that it was a little bit too arrogant, whereupon Chuck replied that there wasn't much else for his children to do). Harry´s favourite object of observation was the parts of Heaven in which the young fledglings were raised and trained. No matter their race, children and their pure, uncensored emotions were always a joy to behold, and seeing those tiny specks of energy playing with each other always left a feeling of deep satisfaction in his heart.

* * *

Chuck found Harry as he watched a batch of fledglings chasing each other near the Throne Room (again, Harry commented on the fact that Chuck bothered to create himself a throne!).

"I can never get enough of watching them," the God said to Death as the little angels disappeared around the corner. "Even before I always had a soft spot for children."

"Who hasn't?" Harry responded as the two of them roamed the corridor. "Children are the epitome of goodness and innocence." The silence that followed his statement prevailed for a few minutes.

"I want to create humans," Chuck declared suddenly. Harry turned around to look at his friend in surprise.

"Why's that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It´s…" Chuck said, fidgeting with his fingers while searching for an answer. "The angels are great, don't get me wrong, but I yearn for something…something familiar. You and I, we were both born human and lived amongst them and I just want something that reminds me of the time before we became God and Death. Besides…even when I had been mortal, the life of other humans fascinated me: their hopes, their fears, and the stories their lives had to tell." Harry didn't answer for a moment, instead thinking over what Chuck had said.

He was right, in a way. Harry could understand why Chuck wanted to create a new humanity. Harry, too, yearned for something familiar. He didn't suffer under the illusion that he could somehow – he didn't know how he should express it – connect or even live among them (he was too different for that) but maybe even seeing the race he once belonged to would lessen the nostalgia and melancholia he sometimes felt when he did not have something to keep him busy. For Harry, it was like he had felt when he had defeated Voldemort and finished his Hogwarts education: He had felt lost and longed for the time he had spent in Hogwarts, because even though he had had a psychopath after his blood, he had a specific path he could follow; a goal to aim for.

"Are you aware of the risk?" he finally asked Chuck, who watched him worriedly. "Humanity requires free will and therefore there will be a fair share of humans who will not follow your rules, who would even defy and fight you. And unlike the Leviathans, you can´t just banish them away the moment they do."

Chuck mulled over his words. "Then maybe I should give them some incentive to follow my rules," he said after a while. "Like allowing the good ones to enter Heaven after they lived their earthly lives."

"And what about the malicious ones?" Harry pressed. "What will you do with them?"

"Banish them to Purgatory when they die," Chuck suggested.

"They would be completely annihilated the moment they entered," Harry countered. "Maybe you should think everything through before you create humanity."

* * *

When Chuck came to Harry with the concept of Hell as means of punishment for the sinful behaviour, the raven-haired youth immediately helped the God to set up the dimension. After all, it would fall partly under his jurisdiction as it was part of the afterlife and therefore of death.

* * *

Harry had his biggest laughing fit after Chuck created his first two humans.

"Let me get this straight," he pressed out between bursts of laughter. "Lilith – one of your first humans – left Eden and ran away because she wouldn't lie under Adam while having sex?!" He nearly doubled over because of all the laughing.

"That´s not funny!" Chuck insisted dourly.

"Au contraire, Chuck," Harry japed. "It´s the most hilarious thing I have ever heard." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "What will you do now?"

"I have to create a new wife for Adam," he answered. "A more submissive one. I don't want humanity to die out because of misguided pride."

"That´s sexist!" Harry threw in. The murderous glare Chuck sent him was well worth it.

* * *

"It is rather unusual for you to search me out, Samael," Harry said as he felt the presence of the second-oldest Archangel drawing near. "In fact, this is the first time you ever have. To what do I own the honour?" He did not turn around; instead, he continued to watch what would be later known as Niagara Falls. There was something calming about watching the gigantic mass of water fall down. The thundering noise, the mist of tiny water drops and the deep blue of the water only contributed further to the serene atmosphere.

"I wish to ask a question," Samael said as he slowly stepped beside Harry.

"What kind of question would you have that you have to come to me for an answer instead of simply asking your siblings or your father?" Harry queried, his curiosity piqued. He did not have much contact with any of the Archangels, the only exception being Gabriel. The mischief and prank-loving Archangel was always fun to have around. Raphael had never taken any liking to Harry, and Michael had all hands full with managing the Heavenly Host. Where Michael went, Samael followed, so it was a real surprise for Harry that said Archangel had come to him.

"I wanted to know why Father loves the humans more than us," Samael asked. Harry blinked several times. He had never thought that the angels would notice how Chuck favoured the humans over his second creation. It wasn't as blatant as Harry had first feared, but it was there. Chuck watched Adam and Eve more often than he did the angels, making everything as comfortable for them as possible. Whereas before Chuck would often speak to random chosen angels, now only the Archangels and some other higher-ups would see him. It wasn't an ideal situation, and as Death had said: 'Only one of those feather-brains has to notice and then we´ll have the first temper-tantrum of this creation.'

"I wouldn't say that he loves the humans more than you," Harry began and he could practically feel the disbelief oozing from Samael. "It´s just…" he tried to search for the right way to explain it, "they´re something novel. You know very well how he was when he began creating you angels. Give it a few millennia and he will treat you all equally again."

"But what if it he won´t?" Samael asked, insecurity colouring his voice. The Archangel seemed to have thought strongly about the subject. "What if he forgets us and discards of us like he did with the Leviathans."

"Don´t say that!" Harry snapped at the angel. "The Leviathans were a mistake and a danger to the whole of creation. Don´t insinuate that he locked them away because he did not love them anymore." At the end of his outbreak Samael had lowered his wings in submission.

"How do you even know of the Leviathans?" Harry continued more calmly. "You shouldn't even know of them."

"Death has spoken of them once," Samael answered. Harry made a mental note to berate his subordinate for passing on classified information. Knowing Death and his dislike for the 'featherbrains', he obviously used the fate of the Leviathans to scare Samael.

"To answer your question…" Harry continued, "he won´t forget you. But if you´re dissatisfied with your situation, show him that you´re still here, that you still love him, and that you still do his work. Maybe he will…find a more balanced position between you and the humans."

"Thank you for your advice," Samael said. He was about to take flight when Harry called out to him.

"Just stay with me for a few more moments and enjoy the beauty of your father´s creation. You angels are constantly upstairs; you should come down here more often."

* * *

The next time Harry saw Samael, the angel was bound and kneeling on the ground of the throne room. Harry stood beside Chuck and watched the Archangel with pity. He could feel the rage, the anger, and the pain emitting from the angel, and the deep sadness and fatigue coming from Chuck. Harry could understand him; after all Lucifer´s – as Samael was called now – rebellion had cost him dearly: thousands of angels dead or renegade, and a new race of tortured and twisted human souls roaming the earth and wreaking havoc. There was nearly nothing left of the paradise Heaven once had been.

It had been the first time Death had had to reap. Sometimes Harry had had to help him, for the angels had perished by the hundreds on some days. But not a single time Chuck had deigned himself to interfere.

"I cannot always be there and solve their problems for them," he had said to Harry as they stared on the charred grounds that once had been the Garden of Eden. "It will only delay the inevitable. But it breaks my heart, Harry, it breaks my heart." And for the first time since Harry had known the God, Chuck had cried. And where his tears had fallen on earth springs had sprung forth filled with the clearest water you could imagine.

Now Samael – no, Lucifer – knelt before them, after Michael had finally apprehended his brother. There were only the three of them: Archangel, God and Death. Everything – the way Lucifer held his head high, how his wings were spread aggressively, and how he looked them directly in the eyes – spoke of defiance. Harry did not believe that there was anything left that could dissuade Lucifer from the path he had chosen for himself.

"Lucifer," God – for it was not gentle and caring Chuck, but a wrathful deity who had been denied fealty – spoke. "You have gone against my will. You have entered Eden and persuaded Eve to eat from the Tree of Creation. You have created a new race of twisted and vile abominations to which you dared to set yourself up as a god, and you have invaded Heaven and killed many of your brethren while you have also corrupted others to go against my will. What do you have to say to defend yourself?"

"Of what use would it be to defend myself when I have already been judged guilty?" Lucifer sneered. "I will never bow down to those weak and faulty creatures. Only you are worthy of my love, but the one you feel towards those vermin has blinded you towards those who are truly deserving of your affections. Those of my brothers and sisters who did not follow me are just too blind to see the truth of my words." He paused. "I wanted to show you that we angels were still there, still yearning for your love while you forgot us, only to favour those defective humans." The last few words were spat with disgust.

"Oh, Samael," Chuck lamented. "How have I failed you?" There were a few moments of silence, no party daring to say anything. Then God continued.

"For your crimes, Lucifer," he boomed, righteous wrath filling his voice. "You shall be destroyed and your name purged from the Annals. That shall be my decree!" Harry´s eyes widened.

"You can´t do that!" he said to Chuck furiously.

"He is not yours to judge!" God bellowed.

"I know," Harry interjected, speaking to Chuck. "But don't do in the heat of the moment what you may later regret. You are filled with wrath and sorrow, but even the Leviathans who committed crimes much worse than his, were not annihilated. You were never a destroyer, so don't let him make you one!" Harry implored Chuck, and he could see the moment when his words pierced through the fury that clouded Chuck´s mind when his eyes cleared.

"You´re right," he whispered. Then he straightened his back and faced Lucifer again.

"Lucifer," he began while infusing his voice with magic. "You shall be banished into the deepest abyss of Hell together with all the unholy abominations you have created. You shall be caged until the end of time, whereupon you shall be freed after sixty-six seals have been broken. You will never tread Heaven again and neither shall any of those you have corrupted. Begone!" And with that a bright light encased the Archangel and when it vanished so did the angel. Silence prevailed.

"Never have I thought that it would come this far," Chuck whispered in a broken voice. "My own children rising against me and I have to be the one to put them down. Sometimes…sometimes I miss just being Chuck, the ordinary, book-loving weirdo from Before." Harry just stood and listened to his fellow´s sorrow.

"What did I do wrong?" Chuck asked desperately.

"Nothing," Harry answered without hesitation. "Such is the nature of free will - that some choices made are not the ones we'd prefer. But Chuck, that doesn't mean that you have failed or that yourself are a failure." Chuck just nodded without much conviction.

"I would like to be alone now, Harry," he said after a while.

"As you wish," Harry said and strode out of the throne room.

The next day Chuck vanished without a trace.

* * *

If Chuck were still here, Harry would have punched him in the face. How dare the pretentious God to use Death as one of the Seals! Pestilence, War, and Famine he could understand - they weren't the greatest of conversationalists - but Death? Who would guide souls to their afterlife now?

As Harry pondered the question, a realisation hit him. Why not have the souls do the work? He could take some souls and make them into sentinels, who would help their fellow souls. And after a while he would give them the choice to move on. That was perfect. Harry looked at the Resurrection Stone which he still wore in the ring on his right hand.

_It won´t hurt to try_ , he thought and then proceeded to summon a randomly chosen soul. A woman appeared in front of him, brown-haired and lithe, her arms and legs long and slender.

"What is your name?" Harry asked.

"Tessa," the woman answered.

"Say Tessa," Harry began. "Would you like to help me guiding souls from one life to another?" The woman seemed to think for a while. She balanced from one leg to the other, her brows furrowing as she contemplated.

"I think I´ll give it a try," she said cheekily. "Heaven wasn't what I had expected. Don't get me wrong; it was great. But something seemed…off. I always had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right. All of my family….they were kind of wrong. Always smiling and telling the same stories again and again. I didn't fell as if I belonged. So, yes, I´ll help you."

"Perfect," Harry grinned. That would solve his problem until Death came back. As much as he hated his own creation being sealed away as part of some Apocalypse scheme it was still well within Chuck´s authority as creator, and Harry would and could not interfere with it. But when Chuck would come back he would get his ear full.

* * *

Gabriel was the first Archangel to search him out after Chuck vanished.

"I need you to hide me from my brothers," he said without much ceremony.

"Why would you want to hide from your own family?" Harry asked in genuine confusion. "Shouldn't you be trying to hold them together in this time of turmoil?"

"You haven't been in Heaven for a very long time, have you?" Gabriel wanted to know. "It´s not what it used to be. Michael, Raphael and some others are slowly turning it into some kind of training camp. We´re no longer family but an army. The younger ones aren't allowed to feel emotions or to question their orders, lest they be 're-educated'. I tried to change it – I really tried – but Michael is too apathetic and Raphael is as cold as a block of ice. I can´t stand watching it. And now I ask you – I beg you! – that you help me escape all this insanity."

"You are absolutely sure?" Harry asked. If he was to give in to the angel´s plea he wanted to be sure that said angel was serious. Gabriel looked at him, his golden-brown eyes lacking their usual amused glint, and nodded solemnly.

"There aren't many options for hiding someone as powerful as you," Harry stated. "I think the best way would be not to hide you, but rather change you into someone your siblings wouldn't suspect to be you." He thought for a while. Angels did not recognize each other by visual marks – constantly changing vessels would make that too tedious – but by their energy signature. But hiding such a powerful being like Gabriel would be difficult without reducing the energy, and Harry didn't quite believe that Gabriel would agree to bind his powers. So simply weakening was out of the question. That left the possibility of changing his energy signature into something else, something of similar power but of different nature than an angel.

"What is your opinion on pagans?" Harry asked, one eyebrow quirked.

"I neither love nor hate them," Gabriel said with confusion written all over his face. "Why?"

"Because in order to hide, you´ll become one," Harry said. "Your siblings would never suspect you to be a pagan." Gabriel still looked unconvinced. "And you would keep all your powers, though you would have to search for an alternative power source," Harry added in an attempt to persuade the Archangel.

"Who would I be? In case I decide to partake in this scheme of yours," Gabriel asked tentatively.

"Some Norse god of mischief and tricks recently got himself killed by another pagan," Harry explained. "You would become him."

A few moments of silence, then: "Do it!"

Harry did not hesitate. With one swift move, he propelled himself forward until he was able to look Gabriel in the eyes. Then he delved into the Archangel´s true self. It was truly awe-inspiring: a core of pure energy and six gigantic, brown wings emerging and spreading away from it. Any lesser being would have been instantly killed when faced with such power. But Harry did not dwell long on the marvel that was Chuck´s second creation, instead starting to work. The first thing he did was to bind Gabriel´s wings. One by one, with as much care as possible, he wrapped them around the angel´s glowing core and fixed them. Gabriel tried to wrestle back the control of his appendages, but Harry would have none of it. The wings were one of the major things that could alert other angels so they had to 'disappear'. Gabriel would still be able to fly, albeit not with his wings but with his magic using apparition similar to Harry. Next was Gabriel´s core; Harry watched the different strands of magic slowly flowing and winding themselves around a fixed point in the centre. Carefully, he picked them apart and connected them anew, creating an energy pattern that was more Nordic than angelic in nature.

When Harry was finished, he stepped back and watched Gabriel. The Archangel had his eyes closed, obviously categorising the new changes.

"I feel…slightly different," the angel said after a while. "I can´t feel my wings. That's a discouraging feeling."

"It will pass," Harry calmed Gabriel. "Now you will pass as Loki. Maybe you should stay clear of the Norse Pantheon for a while." He paused for a moment. "It seems that´s our good-bye." Harry smiled weakly.

"Thank you for all you have done," Gabriel said, and Harry had the feeling that he'd wanted more than the help he had just given. "And maybe we will see each other in a few centuries and can exchange stories." Gabriel smiled, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Take care, Gabriel."

"Take care, Harry."

* * *

"What do you want, Michael?" Harry snapped as the Archangel drew near. Even from afar he could feel the feeling of entitlement and righteousness oozing from the angel. "Isn´t it enough that you´ve run Gabriel out of Heaven and have turned it into a military camp? What is it that you teach now? 'Angels do not possess emotion'?" He mocked.

"How I and Raphael run Heaven is none of your business," Michael stated blatantly.

"Careful, little angel," Harry hissed. "Don´t forget that I am your better by age and by power. I will not be spoken with such disrespect." He let loose part of his power, forcing Michael to drop to his knees. "What do you want?"

"Eve," Michael pressed out. "She is still on earth, creating monsters. They are no problem for our forces, but she herself is. She has already killed some of my brethren and will continue doing so. We need your help to imprison her in Purgatory." Harry drew back his power, allowing Michael to stand up.

"This will be the last time I clean up your mess," he said. "Afterwards, I don't want to see any of you again!" He could not bear to see Heaven – to see the angels – turned into something Chuck would have never wanted them to be. Harry did not know where his friend had gone, but he would never condone what was now going on in Heaven. And seeing the angels just reminded him of his friend who had abandoned him.

"I am agreeable to that," Michael stated and vanished into thin air. Harry sighed. He had heard from Death what had become of Eve. The bite from the Apple of the Tree of Knowledge gave her the knowledge of creation. But it had never been intended for the human mind and so it twisted the poor woman´s mind into something monstrous. She began to create her own creatures – vampires, werewolves and others – because she so desperately wanted to become a creator like God himself. But her children – here Harry shuddered in disgust – would forever be seen as abominations, for their very existence broke the fundamental laws of this universe because they were never intended to be.

"Let´s finish this," Harry murmured to himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Then he detached his own consciousness from his body and spread it out, wider and wider until it covered whole continents. Eve´s presence stood out like a sore thumb: a dark, foul stain amid the brightness of the rest of Chuck´s creation. Within a blink of an eye Harry teleported himself to where Eve was currently residing.

"Eve," Harry said short-spoken. The woman – or rather, the thing – turned around and eyed him with disdain. Eve was currently in the form of a young and rather attractive blonde. But Harry could pierce through her illusion and see what lay behind: her eyes were pitch black, and her dark veins stood out from her pale and rotten flesh. Whenever she moved, Harry could see her bones shifting underneath her skin.

"And with whom do I have the pleasure?" she asked in a sickly-sweet voice. "Another pesky angel who wants to kill my children?"

"Your children are abominations that go against the will of God," Harry just stated.

"They are not!" Eve spat at him, fury etched in her face. "They´re my children, and once I am finished with my work they will be the pinnacle of creation. Angels, humans, demons - they will all bow down to my power!" And with that Harry could feel her attack. Her power rushed over him, trying to find a weak point to attack. Harry was impressed; her powers were nearly on par with Michael's, but Michael was far less powerful than he. Without much effort, Harry swatted her magic aside and in return immobilized her with his own.

"Eve," Harry said, and he could see confusion, fear and hate struggle for dominance in her eyes. "For your crimes, you will be banished to Purgatory to be never free again until the end of times." And with that, black mist encompassed the limp figure on the ground until it covered her completely. Then it compressed and compressed until it had completely vanished.

_The last loose end of Lucifer´s rebellion finally tied up,_ Harry thought. _I think I'll mingle a bit amongst humanity_. He definitely had enough of angels for the time being.

* * *

_A few millennia later_

* * *

"What do you mean, you don´t have the ring? It´s your own freakin' ring, shouldn't you have it!?"

Death watched in amusement as Dean Winchester forgot his temporary fear in favour of his righteous fury. Of all the insignificant humans he had the misfortune to meet, Dean Winchester was one of the more interesting ones. Probably because he started the Apocalypse and therefore was indirectly responsible for his release. That was the main reason why he hadn't smote the tiny human for his obstreperousness. That and the fact that those feather-brains would just resurrect him again.

"I think I expressed myself clearly enough," Death stated calmly. "Even with your underdeveloped grasp on the English language, you should be able to discern the meaning of my words." Dean bristled and Death could practically see how much effort Dean put into holding back his famous temper. He somehow felt quite smug knowing that he was one of the few beings in this universe that instilled genuine terror in the famous, fearless Dean Winchester.

"Do you know who has it?" Dean asked after he had calmed down.

"Indeed I know," Death answered and took another bite of his pizza, knowing that it would infuriate the older Winchester.

"Care to share with the class?" Dean bit out with as much sarcasm as possible.

"Careful, Dean," Death admonished the human. "Don't forget to whom you are speaking." He took another bite. "The ring is currently in possession of my master." Death could see Dean´s eyes widen at this announcement.

"You have a master!?" Dean sputtered. Death simply stared at the human, which seemed to unnerve him.

"Of course I do," Death said. "Like the Archangels were created by God to carry out his will, I was created by my master to collect the souls of the departed. He is a rather powerful individual, on equal footing with God, so I would advise you – should you search him out – to be on your best behaviour." Death shot Dean a humourless grin. "He dislikes fools and those of too much arrogance."

"How would I contact your master?" Dean asked in a more quite voice, obviously still processing the turn this talk had taken.

"I won´t tell you," Death said and held up his hand to silence Dean who was about to speak up. "But the Archangel who is currently residing with Bobby Singer should tell you."

"You know…"

"…that Gabriel has survived?" Death finished for Dean. "Of course I do. I never collected him. But be assured that his little trick at 'Elysium' has fooled everyone else, including Lucifer." Death eyed the empty plate in front of him. "You should go to him. Time is of essence, after all." Dean recognized the dismissal for what it was and stood up.

"And please pass on my sincerest greetings towards Gabriel," Death called after him. Dean just nodded and then left the restaurant.

_Well_ , Death thought, _that should become interesting indeed._

* * *

Everything was tense when Dean came back from his meeting with Death. Sam had desperately wanted to accompany his brother, but the message Death had sent them was very clear on who would be allowed to come and both Gabriel and Castiel had been very adamant about not angering Death. And okay, Sam could see their point, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Gabriel. That was another story. It had been rather surprising when the Archangel had approached them after they had thought him to be killed by Lucifer together with the other pagans. It seems that he was even craftier with his illusions than even the Devil himself. Sam's feelings towards the Archangel were a complete mess: On one hand, he hated that arrogant ass because he had repeatedly killed his brother so that Sam would 'learn a lesson'. But on the other, he was thankful because, let´s face it; their team had consisted – like Dean often said – of 'an angry alcoholic, Mr. Comatose over there, an ex-junkie and a High-School-drop-out with six buckets to his name' before Gabriel came along. Sam tried to be civil to Gabriel, but with Gabriel being…his usual self, it was a rather difficult task. So when Dean came through the door and entered Bobby´s study were they were all lingering around, Sam was rather relieved.

"Do you have Death´s ring?" Sam asked with hope in his voice. If they had the trinket, they would have a real shot at casting Lucifer back in his Cage.

"Not exactly," Dean said.

"What 'not exactly'? You either have it or you don't; there´s no in-between, boy," Bobby commented in his usual gruff voice.

"I don't have the ring, but I know who has it," Dean replied, annoyed.

"Why wouldn't Death be in possession of his own ring?" Castiel asked with the same confused expression he usually wore when he didn't get one of Dean´s countless pop-culture references.

"He said that his master had it." Everyone´s eyes – expect Gabriel´s – widened in surprise. Sam had to catch his breath. Death had a master? How could that be? Wasn't Death like…absolute? Who would be powerful enough to master Death? And would such a being even consider helping them? While Sam thought about the implication of Dean´s statement his brother already continued speaking.

"He also said that you..." He pointed at Gabriel. "…know how to contact him." Sam could see that Dean was rather angry at Gabriel by the way he clenched his fist. Sam could understand him.

"So you didn't mention that you knew how to contact something as powerful as God?" Sam asked Gabriel, furious.

"There is nothing more powerful than the Father," Castiel replied in an even voice, and if it wasn't for his Grace shining behind his eyes Sam would have thought that he was rather unfazed.

"Someone," Gabriel threw in quietly.

"What?" Bobby exclaimed.

"Death´s master," Gabriel began explaining. "He´s not 'something', he is 'someone'. Nobody but Father, Death, and the four Archangels know of him. He was already there when I came into existence. Michael told me the story of how he was the first other being he ever saw. And I know that he created Death as his proxy on earth." A long silence followed his statement, everybody thinking about what the youngest Archangel had told them.

"And how do we contact this Master of Death?" Bobby asked and Sam had to smile. Trust Bobby to focus on the task at hand and not to get lost in philosophical debates.

"I do have a special connection to him," Gabriel said. Dean snorted.

"How´s that?"

"Because he was the one who helped me hide from Heaven," Gabriel explained while throwing an annoyed glance at Dean. "He created the Loki persona I use. I may be able to use this bond to call him. But I don't know if he will come." He shrugged his shoulders. "Only one way to find out!"

* * *

Harry was enjoying both the ice cream and the presence of Death in the beautiful town of Venice when he felt a tug at the edge of his mind.

"So they are finally calling you, Sir?" Death asked in a mock-innocent voice while he licked from his chocolate ice cream. "That took longer than I had anticipated." Harry shot him an irritated glare. The tug was becoming more and more insistent, and if he hadn't liked Gabriel he would already have smote him into nothingness for starting to cause him such a headache.

"They won´t give up, will they?" he asked and Death just raised his eyebrow as if he wanted to convey to Harry just what a waste of breath this question had been.

"And I tried so hard to stay out of this whole Apocalypse business," Harry groaned as he finished with his ice cream.

"You could still just ignore them," Death suggested as he fed a piece of his ice-cream wafer to the pigeons which crowded around him. "That is what I do when someone powerful enough to make me notice tries to summon me."

"Yeah," Harry said, "but then it would really burden my consciousness. I still remember a time when I stood against a seemingly all-powerful enemy. It isn´t really something I wish onto others."

"Then you probably have to go," Death commented nonchalantly. "Pass my regards to Dean and do tell me later how he reacted."

"You, my dear Death," Harry pointed a finger at him, "are an evil individual." Death just smirked at him and then Harry vanished to follow where the nudge led him.

* * *

Harry appeared in what seems to be some kind of study, surrounded by three armed humans, an angel filled with tension, and an Archangel radiating smugness. When he looked down he saw that he stood within a very complicated Devil´s trap.

_Huh_ , Harry thought, _I didn't know that this one´s still in use_.

"You called?" Harry said and stepped out of the trap, only because he wanted to show that such child´s play did not affect him. Immediately, the three hunters tensed and gripped their weapons. Harry just looked at them, amused by their antics.

"You´re some God-like being? You´re a midget!" the blonde hunter – Dean Winchester; Harry had heard so much about him – blurted out.

"Careful, Winchester," Harry hissed. It seems that Death hadn't exaggerated when he guaranteed that Dean would be irritating within the first five minutes of meeting Harry. "You wouldn't want me to do something drastic before we've even introduced ourselves, would you?" Dean gulped and stayed silent. Harry meanwhile turned to the other occupants of the room.

"Who else do we have here?" he continued. "Ah, Samuel," he looked at the younger Winchester who gripped his gun even more tightly. "I´ve heard so much about you. Most of it wasn't very positive." He could practically see how Dean´s protection instincts overrode his fear as the hunter glared at him venomously. "And Bobby Singer, the hunter legend. There aren't very many hunters who make it past the age of fifty. Last, but not least, Castiel the angel who went against Heaven, against God, according to some." Harry probably shouldn't find so much joy in the uneasy glances they threw at him but it had been so long since he had been truly revered and he couldn't really help it.

"I´m here as well," Gabriel pouted.

"Of course," Harry rolled with his eyes. "How could I forget you?"

"Master of Death…" Castiel began, but Harry interrupted him.

"Call me 'Harry'," he said. "'Master' of Death is such a mouthful."

"Harry?" Dean mouthed at Sam who just shrugged his shoulders.

"Can we have your ring?" Gabriel shouted unceremoniously. "The Scooby gang over here needs it to put Luci back into his Cage."

"You want my ring?" Harry asked. "Why should I give you my ring?"

"Maybe to prevent the Apocalypse from happening!?" Dean contributed with his usual level of sarcasm.

"And this matters to me why exactly?" Harry wanted to know. It was sad, but true; Harry had long given up on caring for the so called 'End of Times'. Being a primordial being altered your perspective on finiteness. There were many different possible ends for this universe, so why should he care? One Apocalypse was the same as another; either way, everything would end, so why should he care about people dying? It was only a natural thing and not something that needed to be stopped. An end would come to everything, even to him, so why was this group so bent on preventing something that would happen, one way or another, in the future?

"You don't care that people will die?" Sam asked.

"People die all the time," Harry answered evenly. "And if you know what comes afterwards it becomes even less terrifying. You should congratulate all those who made it past the suffering of life instead of pitying them."

"Great, another divine douchebag," Dean gritted out.

Harry didn't even bother to look at him. "The only one here I would even slightly consider giving my ring to would be Gabriel," Harry said after a while.

"Why?" Castiel asked.

"Because he is the only one here I trust," Harry said and ignored the offended looks that were sent his way. "But you have yet to convince me to relinquish it into your hands. It is a powerful artefact, after all."

"Because we care," Samuel said resolutely. "You´re immortality may have twisted your view on life, but for us it's something precious, something that deserves to be fought for and defended. Every human on this earth has a right to live this life and even if it´s for something that goes against what we stand for. Because that´s what this is all about: choice. We don´t want heaven and hell to decide how to live our lives, or even how we die. Because we may not be as powerful, and we aren't immortal, but we have free will and you have NO RIGHT to take that away from us! You have…" He punctuated each of his passionate statements with a trust of his index finger towards Harry.

"Then I´ll give it to you," Harry said, effectively stopping Sam's rant.

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"How many people do you think have been, or still are, after the artefacts that I possess?" Harry said in a quiet voice. "How many have succumbed to the idea of attaining only a small measure of control over death? You have spoken without any kind of greed or selfishness and therefore I will give Gabriel my ring for this use only." Harry took his ring from his finger. It was of sentimental rather than of real worth, for he did not need it to summon souls, but no one needed to know that. He handed it over to Gabriel who, seeing that he was given something so extremely powerful, had shed his trickster-persona and was every inch the powerful Archangel that he had been once. Gabriel's eyes shone with the power of his grace, his whole stance powerful but humble when facing Harry, and his wings – only seen by Harry and Castiel – were humming with power.

"You have broken my bindings?" Harry asked amused, a grin etched in his face. Gabriel´s face flushed red.

"After my siblings stopped searching for me I started to undo it," he admitted sheepishly. "It took a while – a few centuries in fact – but flying was definitely worth it."

"You had your wings bound?" Castiel asked incredulously.

"Why is this so important?" Bobby wanted to know confused.

"Our wings are the most important parts of our essence," Castiel explained, his eyes still fixed on Gabriel. "To bind them is usually a punishment fit for the worst of crimes."

"So why did you do it?" Dean asked.

"That's none of your business," Gabriel growled and Dean flinched back. "I have the ring and now we can continue."

"Then I bid you farewell," Harry said and wanted to vanish when Sam asked:

"Won´t you help us?"

Harry halted. "I am not to interfere with the living," he said. "I am Death, the End and the Destroyer. The world of the living is the domain of God, the Creator, the Beginning and only he is to interfere. You understand how cosmic order and endangering the very fabric of existence works?" Obviously they didn't, because Dean was probably about to shout something uncomplimentary, but Harry had already vanished.

* * *

Harry could feel when the four Horsemen´s rings were united. Like an earthquake, a gigantic magical shock-wave spread through the universe alerting every sensitive being to the fact that something of significant importance had occurred. But something was off: Harry could sense Lucifer´s grace slowly descending downwards to Hell but he wasn't the only one.

_What have they done?_ Harry asked himself aghast as he watched Samuel Winchester´s soul, along with the soul belonging to his half-brother and Michael´s grace, fall towards the cage. Dean, Bobby, Castiel, and especially Gabriel should have known better than that. And in this moment, when the magical energy soared through the universe, Harry could see:

_"I am your new God, a better one," Castiel proclaimed after he had killed Gabriel and Raphael in a bid to become the next ruler of Heaven._

_The Leviathans slowly advanced towards the Winchesters and Bobby as they tried to escape the storage building. There was a shot…and Bobby fell._

_Dean, Castiel, and another man ran through a dense forest. A howl echoed through the night and several monsters came running after the men._

_Angels were falling. The night-sky was illuminated by the thousands of comet-like lights soaring through the air. Their wings were torn apart as they fell, and one by one they struck the ground._

_Dean opened his black eyes._

"What have you done!?" Harry roared at the four figures standing in Stull Cemetery as he appeared in front of them. "This should never have happened like this!" Thunder and lightning flashed through the sky. Before anybody could react, Harry plunged after the quartet. He reached out with his powers and severed the bonds between Samuel and Lucifer and between Adam and Michael. With one thought he sent the two humans back to the cemetery. Harry watched as the two Archangels continued falling and was about to interfere when something stopped him.

_**Not yet**_ , a voice said, there are still things to come.

_**Chuck?!**_ Harry´s eyes widened in disbelief.

_**My sons have still to learn their lessons**_ , Chuck continued, _**and**_ _ **your interference would ruin their chance at redemption.**_

_**Why did you leave?**_ Harry asked desperately. _**And what made you interfere right now?**_

_**Because it was time for all my creations to grow up and become responsible for their own actions,**_ Chuck explained ruefully. _**It was never my intention to hurt anyone. I´m so sorry. But I cannot come back yet - there are still some things I have to do. But I will come back soon.**_ Harry hung his head. Chuck´s presence retreated and he was left alone again. Harry watched as the two Archangel-brothers fell into the cage which gates closed after them. The Apocalypse was over.

Harry returned on the surface where Sam and Adam were mollycoddled by the others, he himself being invisible.

"Wasn't it you who did not want to interfere?" Death asked curiously as he stepped beside Harry; a cane in his hand.

"It seems that I can´t help my 'saving-people-thing'," Harry shrugged.

"You do know that the Cage was never intended to hold two Archangels?" Death inquired. "With the Apocalypse in shambles, other parties will step up to take over. Hell and Heaven are in utter uproar."

"Then it won´t get boring, will it?" Harry grinned and Death smirked back.

"It surely won´t."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is. I would have never thought that this story would get such a huge and positive reception. A big thanks to all of those who have followed and reviewed. I know that there are some wishes I could not incorporate in this story, mainly because it had already been finished when I posted the first part. For that I am sorry, but I hope you all liked it nevertheless. 
> 
> There will be a sequel! There were many who demanded one and I am happy to oblige. Currently it has 18k words and has yet to be finished. It will be posted as a new Story in this 'verse.


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